


Where the Grass Is Wet With Tears

by katikat



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-01
Updated: 2010-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grief has many forms...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Grass Is Wet With Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Written before ep 114 aired, but it can be read as a coda to the finale.

Peter was about to leave the house when the Marshal's office called to tell him that Neal had left his perimeter. He didn't cut his anklet, he just left his two miles radius and kept going. Slowly. He wasn't running, just walking, removing himself farther and farther from where he should be. And Peter suspected he knew where he was going - it wouldn't be the first time, after all.

"I know where he's headed," Peter told the operator tiredly and assured her that he didn't need any back-up. Not for dealing with Neal, never with him. And especially not these days.

*-*-*-*

Peter's gut was right. Once he spotted Neal, he called the Marshal's office again and confirmed that he had found the subject and had taken him into custody. The operator didn't need to know that taking Neal into custody meant taking him home and making sure he was warm and safe.

Peter walked slowly among the headstones, wet grass squelching under his shoes. The graveyard was quiet this early in the morning, the mist and drizzle and patches of snow here and there not at all inviting for a morning visit. He had a blanket bundled under his arm - he knew he would need it.

Neal was in his usual spot, sitting on the cold, wet ground by the still fresh grave, heedless of the rainwater and mud soaking his expensive pants and dirtying his shoes. The drizzle plastered his hair to his head and spiked his lashes, making his big blue eyes appear even larger in his pale face. His lips were moving and as Peter came closer, he caught some of the whispered words.

"... will go sailing, just as I promised you," Neal was saying while he ran his long fingers down the head stone, over the name engraved in gold lettering. "... see the sky and... show you how beautiful..."

Neal kept on whispering, his eyes looking in the distance, as Peter stepped closer then crouched down in front of him. "Neal?" Peter whispered gently.

Neal fell silent, then blinked once and once more before looking straight at Peter. His lips were turning blue. "Peter?" he croaked.

Peter smiled sadly at him. "Hey." He shook out the blanket and laid it over Neal's shoulders, bundling him in it and running his hands up and down his upper arms to rub some warmth back into them.

Neal looked around, appearing lost. "Did I... Did I blank out again?" he asked in a small voice.

Peter patted his his wet hair, turning the touch into an affectionate stroking. "Yeah, buddy, yeah, you did."

Neal huddled in the blanket, lowering his eyes. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Peter said, smiling reassuringly.

Neal sighed, white steam puffing from his mouth. "No, it's not," he said. "Peter, I..." He looked up at him again. "I think I'm losing my mind," Neal admitted.

Peter's heart ached. What should he say to that? They both knew that there was something very wrong with Neal. "No, you're not losing it. You just... misplaced a tiny part, is all." He smiled warmly.

Neal didn't respond to Peter's smile with one of his own like he usually did. He swallowed hard. "Maybe... maybe I need help finding it again?" he asked uncertainly.

Running his fingers down Neal's cool cheek, Peter nodded. "Yeah, maybe."

Neal nodded too, slowly, trusting Peter even if he couldn't trust himself.

A few minutes later, they left the graveyard together, Peter helping Neal walk on cold stiffened legs. They headed for the car and for the warmth and safety of Peter and El's home, while the drizzle continued washing over the marble headstone Peter had helped Neal choose, filling the carved, golden letters reading _Kate Moreau_.

The End


End file.
